BLINDED BY THE WHITELIGHTER BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Summary: Gideon goes after the Halliwells. The Elders have decided that the Charmed One's progeny is too powerful to let live. Unfortunately he meets an unforeseen complication in the form of adult Wyatt, come back from the future to collect his wayward brother, Chris.

Author's Note: The first part of this story deals with the future and how and why Chris came back to 2004. Then it will jump to Chris, in 2004, with the Charmed Ones (starting just after 'The Courtship of Wyatt's Father') and adult Wyatt coming back. I really can't give away any more of the plot than that.

This is my first Charmed fic and I decided to write this story because the character of Chris Perry Halliwell fascinates me, along with his past (or is it future?), and my interest in Charmed, which had waned a bit, jumped right back to obsessive level. And here's the finished product of much wondering, conspiracy theories and deliberations. Hope you enjoy!

ps. I apologise for the formatting but ff.net won't let me put in my little squiggle lines to seperate sections of text. If anyone has any ideas to get around this problem please tell me, it's driving me crazy!!

CHAPTER ONE: DEATH TAKES A HALLIWELL

San Francisco. 2019.

Piper took another gasping breath, choking on her own blood as it bubbled past her lips, staining skin pale with creeping death, a vibrant crimson red. "Leo!" she croaked, desperately seeking the help that would save her. She had been calling ever since they'd been attacked and no one had come. Her heart was doubly breaking because of her husband's abandonment. If only he had come, none of this would ever have happened. He could have saved them all…

Earlier that day.

"No, you are not getting streaks in your hair, young lady!" Piper heard Phoebe chastise her daughter, Prue as she came down the stairs. "You are nine years old. That is too young to be dying your hair!"

"But mom!" Prue whined, her light brown mop of hair swinging as she stomped her foot, "All my friends have already gotten it done."

"All your friends never had to deal with such things as demon goo, blood and parts to turn their newly blonde-streaked hair a fetching shade of green!" Phoebe muttered, "And you are supposed to be sick, not throwing a temper tantrum!"

"Geez mom, it's only a cold and besides, what better time to ask you? Oh hi, aunt Piper!" she squealed as Piper walked into the room.

"Hey guys," Piper greeted them, "Where's Paige, isn't she supposed to be here too?"

"I'm here! I'm here!" Paige cried as she orbed in. "I am so sorry I'm late you guys but the last class I had was a doozy!"

"You'd think Magic School students would have a bit more respect for the Charmed Ones," Prue said as she hugged her other aunt.

"You'd think, wouldn't you?" Paige said, ruffling her niece's hair and pulling off her black teaching robes. "Where's Wyatt and Chris?" she asked, looking around and not seeing either of her nephews.

Piper smiled at her as she bustled them into the kitchen for some coffee, or milk in Prue's case, "No, they decided to bail out. And they've both missed enough school days due to demons and such this year I decided they'd better go before I had a truancy officer banging on my door. After all, what am I going to say? Yeah, sorry officer, but my sons were too busy vanquishing demons to get an education?"

"You should send them to Magic School permanently, Piper, instead of just letting them have the occasional romp through my classroom," Paige said, "That way they wouldn't have to make excuses."

Piper rolled her eyes as she filled the kettle, "Yeah, and then when they wanted to live in this world, you know, the real world according to the rules, they would be considered losers who never went to school! I already had a husband who has a death certificate since before I was born, I don't need two teenage boys let loose in Magic School on a permanent basis. They have enough tricks already, thank you very much!"

Phoebe giggled, "Let me guess, did my little nephews freak their mommy out again?"

Piper growled under her breath and threw a tea-towel at Phoebe, who ducked out of the way, "Do they ever do anything else?" she huffed out, "Wyatt decided why bother to pack his lunch by hand when you can just get the kitchen to do it for you! Floating oranges, orbing lunchboxes and half-awake Piper don't mix."

Paige laughed, "That's my little nephew! Be thankful he's not orbing home girlfriends yet!"

Prue scrunched up her nose in disgust at the very thought, "Eeugh! I am so not listening to this!" She grabbed her glass of milk and walked out of the room, "I'll be in the living room if you need me!"

Phoebe sighed, "The pre-teen years… now I regret being such a pain in the ass to Grams!"

Piper was about to answer when a scream erupted from the living room, the roar of flames sounding soon after. "Prue!" Phoebe called rushing into the room, closely followed by Piper and Paige. A hooded figure in black, their face indiscernible, loomed over little Prue, who had tried to set him on fire but failed. Like a fly, he swatted her aside as the sisters ran into the room.

"Your time is ended, Witches!" he hissed, throwing a fireball at Phoebe who levitated out of the way. Piper tried to freeze him and blow him up but her powers wouldn't work. He moved towards Prue again, throwing an knife, but Phoebe jumped into the way and the blade sliced through her abdomen instead.

Paige cried out in alarm and horror and Piper started calling out for Leo to get his ass down here and out of Elder-land. But he never came. Paige threw a table across the room, using her powers to pin the demon in place but he disappeared only to reappear behind Prue, grabbing her from where she was sobbing over her mother and using her as a shield.

Paige and Piper clasped hands and Paige tried her hand at a spell she'd seen in the Book of Shadows, "Demon who has travelled here,

I call upon you to disappear,

Elementals heed my call,

Rid this demon from these walls!" The spell didn't work and the two sisters were forced to separate as he threw a huge energy ball at them.

"Leo!" Piper screamed, "Phoebe's hurt, get your ass down here now!"

"How touching," the demon sneered, his cultured voice strangely familiar, "What a pity it is that he can't save you now. The Power of Three dies this day. And their progeny." He thrust the dagger that appeared in his hand through Prue's heart and the nine year old collapsed to the ground where he dropped her, dead. From her spot on the floor, Phoebe cried out in horror but was too weak to take the vengeance her heart desired.

A wave of his arm and Piper slammed into the wall behind her, crashing into the cabinet, and landing in a shower of wood and glass. Paige stepped forward, trying to orb behind him but he caught her and forced her to return to physical form, "I never did like half-breeds," he sneered as he held out his hand and Paige gasped, her own hands flying towards her chest. He squeezed her heart with his power and beneath the force of it, it gave way, killing her instantly.

Both Piper and Phoebe felt her die, felt their link break and the Power of Three broken. For Phoebe, the strain was almost too much, Paige's and Prue's pain, their deaths, her grief, Piper's anger, grief and fear, all of it weighed in on her, sending her into spasms of agony as her head felt like it was being rent in two.

Piper knew she was the last one standing, and that she might have a chance to save Phoebe if only she could defeat the demon. "Powers of earth, fire, wind and spirit soar,

Let their spirits live the lives they've lived before,

This demon has the Power of Three broken,

Let the wrath of the Halliwell line be awoken!" she sobbed out.

The demon staggered, bright swords of light piercing him from where Paige and Prue's ghosts were rising from their bodies. But he didn't die. Turning to Piper in fury, he snarled, "Not enough Witch. The Power of Three is dead! And soon enough, so will the entire Halliwell line!" Fear rang in Piper's heart, he wasn't going to stop with her sisters and niece, and not with herself, he was going after her sons. And that she couldn't allow.

She tried to blow him up again but he sent her flying up, smashing into the wall once more and pinning there while bending over the broken and bleeding Phoebe, he reached out and snapped her neck. Piper cried out and Paige and Prue's ghosts seem to recover from their after death shock, as they cried out for their sister and mother respectively.

Piper's very breath was snatched from her as some power constricted around her throat. She saw out of the corner of her eye, the newly risen ghost of Phoebe and those of Paige and Prue disappear in a sparkle of golden lights, called to the afterlife. The demon glared at her from beneath his cowl, "Hush now, little witch, you'll see them soon enough." She felt her bones snap, and she cried out for Leo. Again he didn't answer. Her cries cut off into gurgles as she was impaled on the large pieces of broken, jagged wood from the destroyed cabinet. "Wyatt… Chris…" she gasped out, calling for her children. The demon loomed over her, "Don't worry. They'll join you sooner than you'll ever dream." He disappeared, leaving Piper alone, her family dead around her, her absentee sort-of husband gone AWOL, her sons in danger and herself dying…

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Fourteen year old Chris Perry Halliwell, was in a good mood. His biology teacher was out sick, so that meant he had the last two periods free, and since they were his last classes, that meant getting to go home early. He'd done the whole 'na-na-ne-na-na' to Wyatt when he saw them in the halls, the Junior not pleased with his Freshman brother's taunting.

Strolling into the manor, he called out a greeting to his mother as he closed the door telekinetically. As far as he knew his aunts and cousin were supposed to be here today as well, some sort of witchy thing, so he was looking forward to a little fun.

"Mom?" he called out again when he got no answer. Orbing his bag to his room and stepping into the living room, he was met by a scene of utter horror.

The first thing he saw was the blood.

The floor was awash with it. The walls were splattered with it. Next, came the crumpled bodies and as recognition sunk in sluggishly, Chris's world shattered.

"Mom!" he cried, rushing over but knowing already that he was too late.

"Chris?" a familiar voice called him from the other side of the room.

Whipping around so quick he almost toppled, he was confronted by the final truth of all: - his mother's ghost, staring at him sadly. "Mom?"

"We never saw it coming." Piper said dazedly, "He was just there and he killed us all. Our powers wouldn't work." Her brown eyes locked onto her youngest son's, "He said he's coming after you and your brother. You can't be caught out like we were."

Chris was speechless, "There's no way to bring you back?" he asked, his voice tinged with hysteria.

Piper shook her head, "Already tried the whole 'wrath-of-the-Halliwell-line' thing. Considering I'm now dead, it obviously didn't work."

"Why didn't dad heal you? Why isn't he here?" Chris demanded, his initial numbness beginning to give way to anger as the facts hit home.

"We called and we called but he never came." Piper said angrily, "Elder or no Elder, Leo's getting his ass kicked next time I see him." Her head cocked to the side like she was hearing something he didn't, "I don't have much time. I love you Chris, always remember that. I'm sorry that I couldn't say goodbye to Wyatt so tell him I love him for me, will you?" she said, tears leaking down her face, "You two stick together now alright? That demon is going to come after you and I fully expect you both to kick its ass or else do me a favour and run. I don't want you joining me where I'm going for another seventy years or so, ok?"

A golden light surrounded her and she started to disappear, "Mom! Wait! Please!" Chris cried but to no avail.

"Goodbye Chris," he heard her say faintly before she was gone.

"Dad! Dad! Come quick! It's mom, she's hurt! DAD!" he yelled in vain for a few minutes before he realised that his father wasn't coming.

Chris was left standing there, alone, surrounded by death and destruction. His mother, his aunts Phoebe and Paige, his little cousin Prue… All gone.

And something inside of him snapped, a dam opened and San Francisco shook.

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Sixteen year old Wyatt Matthew Halliwell was bored senseless. He didn't like Shakespeare on the best of days and today was most definitely not the best of days. His day had sucked, he had a pile of homework, his teacher was a dragon and to top it all off, his brother had gotten to go home early. Life was wonderful.

However, he was jolted out of boredom induced haze when the crackle and boom of thunder and lightning sounded without warning. Looking out the window like many others, Wyatt's jaw dropped. Where once had been a typically bright and sunny San Franciscan afternoon, now the sky was dark and rapidly growing darker, black clouds rolled across the sky and huge, jagged bolts of lightning were going wild. The wind was beginning to pick up to a howl, and the new-falling rain was growing heavier by the second. Now Wyatt was not a meteorologist but a storm, or more like a hurricane, like this did not just appear out of thin air.

Which meant going for the other option and the one he'd been dreading since he first realised something was up.

Something magical was happening. Something very bad.

As the windows clattered, he gathered up his bag and snuck out, entering the nearest restroom and orbing from behind a stall door to the manor.

And was nearly blown away for his efforts.

With a lot of shock, he realised that he'd orbed right into the centre of things. Whatever was going on, it had begun in his home.

Putting up his force-field, he gingerly waded into the magical mess. He was stunned to find Chris, - his little brother Chris, Chris who was generally not prone to magical temper tantrums, - on his knees on the floor of the living room, surrounded by a veritable wall of power which was fuelling the storm that was currently shaking all of the city to its foundations.

Once he'd gotten over that, he had to deal with an even worse shock; the bodies were recognisable even seen through the swirls and eddies of magic surrounding his baby brother. He staggered back in horror, and instantly understood the situation regarding Chris, his little brother had always been more emotionally volatile when provoked.

Most of his family were dead. Had been slaughtered. And he knew who had done it. He now bitterly regretted not killing him when he had the chance, but he'd remedy that the next chance he got. But first things first, Chris didn't understand the subtleties surrounding power and those who held it, he'd been brought up with and fed the whole Good Vs. Evil nonsense. Wyatt would have to fix that but now, he had to calm Chris down before he destroyed the city.

Trying to force his way through to his sobbing brother, he reached out with his power, reached Up There and yanked down the nearest Elder he could find.

"Get off your pacifist butts and start cleaning up this mess before irreparable damage is done!" Wyatt snapped, "The Charmed Ones have died and you didn't even notice! Wake up and get my father down here!"

Turning to Chris, he was surprised to see watery green eyes staring at the befuddled Elder with a strangely intent look. The Elder barely missed the gust of fire that flared to life where he had stood. "You never came!" Chris snarled as he advanced, fully ready to fry the Elder to a crisp, "They called for you and you never came!"

"Get out of here!" Wyatt yelled as he moved to intercept the furious younger Halliwell and the Elder disappeared in a shower of blue and white light.

Chris's fury doubled and the weather mirrored its turn, the earth beginning to shake under their feet. Chris was lost in the power, lost in grief and unable to bring himself back alone before he had left San Francisco in ruins. Leo would only incite him to murder, there was nobody else and so Wyatt would have to postpone revenge until he had gotten things back under control.

He hoped.

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"Chris!" Wyatt called, "It's me, Wyatt. Listen you've got to stop this! You're going to bring the city down around us!"

"They're dead!" Chris shouted, "How can you stand there and tell me to stop it! They're murderer got away! Dad could have healed them but he couldn't be bothered to show up! I'm bringing them back!"

Oh boy, this wasn't good, Wyatt thought. "Killing a few million people is not going to help matters, you can't bring them back. It's not possible. You need to calm down, rein in your powers and stop this before it's too late!"

"Why?" Chris said, dispassionately looking out the window and watching the results of his pain, "Mom said their killer is coming after us too. I'm only taking the fight to him."

"You can't!" Wyatt exclaimed, "You are in over your head here! You have no idea who it was or how to kill them! Mom is dead. Our aunts and cousin are dead as well. Don't make me lose you too." Wyatt said with heartfelt emotion. Gideon was not going to get his little brother too. He moved closer to him, "Listen I know what you're feeling. You're hurting, you're angry, you want to make the pain go away but this is not going to do it. This is not the way Chris."

Chris paused, seeming to consider his words and Wyatt was relieved to see the manic glint disappear but it was quickly replaced with a coldness that frightened. "You're right Wyatt. Thank you." he said without infliction, "This should be done right. I'll only get to do it once after all." He turned, heading for the stairs to the attic while Wyatt tried to process exactly what had happened there.

Chris had made it to the upstairs landing when Wyatt orbed in in front of him. "Oh no you don't!" he exclaimed, "I've heard aunt Paige talk of mom the mercenary but you are not going trying it out!"

"It's justice Wyatt." Chris said, trying to get past but Wyatt kept blocking him.

"It's suicide! And I can't let you do it!"

Chris's eyes were like green chips of ice, "I'm sorry to hear that. Now get out of my way!" he said, casually sending Wyatt flying with telekinesis.

Wyatt landed uncomfortably against the wall, and belatedly realised that he wasn't adequately equipped to talk anybody down when he had his mind set on revenge himself. If a fight was what Chris wanted, he was damn well going to get one. He didn't dare start a magical fight, that on top of what Chris was already powering, and which the Elders hadn't seemed to be able to reverse yet, would not be the greatest of ideas. Halliwell magic tended to backfire when used between members of the family. The last thing he needed was a power outage just in time to let Gideon kill them all.

Taking a deep breath, he shimmered in behind Chris, a power no one but he knew he had acquired over the years, and grabbed the eerily determined fourteen year old from behind. Chris immediately tried to send him flying, then tried to orb out when that failed, but Wyatt wasn't feared by the demon community for nothing. A well-placed surge of power passed through his brother and Chris stopped struggling and fell limply into Wyatt's arms.

It wasn't the nicest thing to do and there were sure to be words between them later but he couldn't let Chris go after Gideon. He had no doubt that the kid would have found him, but whether he would have been able to recover from the shock in time to stop Gideon from killing him first was doubtful. He just couldn't take the chance. Orbing Chris to his bedroom, he laid him gently down on the bed, gratified to see that the raging storm was finally calming as it powered down. Now it was time for damage control.

From downstairs, he heard the sound of an agonised cry.

It seemed that his father had come after all.

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Wyatt orbed downstairs to find his father clutching his mother's body, rocking back and forth, sobbing her name. "So you finally decided to grace us with your presence?" Wyatt demanded angrily.

Leo turned bleary eyes to his son, "How did this happen?" he asked brokenly, lost in despair. Wyatt felt no sympathy for him.

"You didn't come when they called," he answered cruelly, "They died with no one to heal them. Chris said he called you too. Believe me, it wasn't from lack of trying that you didn't hear them. What's the matter, couldn't be bothered to leave Elder-land?"

Leo's eyes narrowed, "Chris? Why didn't he heal them?!" he roared, "If he was here why didn't he stop it?!"

"Don't you dare blame this on him!" Wyatt snapped in anger, "By the time he came home, they were dead. And he can't heal anyway, somebody never took the time to teach him."

"It's not my fault he's useless," Leo growled, "Nothing but an ill-timed mistake!"

"So it's his fault then?!" Wyatt snarled, "Where the hell were you when mom called you? Where were you when they died? Where were you when Chris called you? Where were you when he lost control and nearly exposed magic? Where were you during any of it?! Oh wait, I forgot, your family obviously isn't as important as the rest of the world! They're dead because of you!"

Leo said stiffly, "I'm an Elder." He looked at Piper and his face crumpled, "I can't stay here," he whispered. He didn't even look at his son, "I'm not coming back down again Wyatt. Not for anything."

Wyatt couldn't believe him. No apology? No explanation? Did he even give a damn about them, he wondered. "Fine," he said somewhat wearily, "What an unusual change that will be!" he said sarcastically, "If that's how you feel, I don't want to see you again ever."

Leo made to orb out, brushing Piper's hair off her bloodied face as he did, but Wyatt's words made him pause, "And from now on I don't have a father. You never were much of one anyway. Stay out of my way, Elder, or I'll go through you if I have to. Next time we meet, it won't be on such friendly terms as these." Wyatt waved his hand, and sent his father straight back up to Elder-land.

He had fond memories of his father when he had been a child, but after the Titans, Leo had changed, didn't seem to care anymore. He'd watched his mother make excuse after excuse for him and his apathetic attitude towards his sons, but his mom was dead now.

And every scrap of protection she'd offered his errant father was gone now too.

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Orbing some candles into a circle, he chanted, "Hear these words, hear my cry,
spirit from the other side, come to me, I summon thee, cross now the great divide."

In a swirl of golden lights, his aunt Prue appeared. Her eyes were sad as she looked at Wyatt. Of course, she'd have felt it when her sisters joined her. "Oh my God, Wyatt, are you ok?!" she said in concern, stepping out of the circle, and resuming corporeal form for the moment. She hugged him tenderly, and he allowed himself to wallow in the comfort for a minute or two before he broke away.

"Hi, aunt Prue," he greeted her, blinking back his tears, "I need a favour."

"Anything for my nephew," she said lovingly, her long black hair swirling as she looked around the familiar attic.

"I need to vanquish the person who killed my mother," he said, getting straight to the point, "Chris got home ahead of me, and found them first. He lost control over his powers and I had to knock him out. I need you to watch over him for me while I go kill the murderer's sorry ass."

Prue just looked at him for a moment, "I remember Piper calling me to show you two off when you were both babies. We'd hoped that this would never happen. But you're on your own again sweetie. Where's Leo though? You shouldn't have to have this weight on your shoulders. My mom's killer didn't get vanquished until I was nearly thirty. I know you're angry but I don't want you to get hurt."

Wyatt's lips compressed into a thin line, the warm feeling his aunt's mothering invoked in him smothered by the raging fires of anger he felt whenever he thought of his father, "Leo, in all his Elder-ness, has decided he has no sons anymore."

Prue's temper flared, "I promise to promptly tear him to pieces when I see him," she said heatedly, "No one walks out on my nephews. And of course I'll babysit Chris. But you be careful now, do you hear me? There's enough Halliwells in the afterlife for a long long while."

"Don't use that word around Chris, he'll probably try and turn you into something slimy," Wyatt said with a small touch of humour, "And don't worry about me, I've seen the demon before. I know I can take him. He'll wish he'd never been born before I'm through with him." He looked at his watch, "I've gotta go, this will have to be reported to the police and I can't let too much time go by before it does."

Prue nodded, "Go. I'll keep an eye on things. Should I call Darryl?"

"And give him a heart-attack when he hears a ghost calling him?" Wyatt said, "No, if you have to, use a spell and use my voice to do it. He can deal with things. See ya later, aunt Prue."

"Be careful!" she called as he orbed out.

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Gideon was congratulating himself on a job well done when he heard an icy voice behind him. "You just had to do it, didn't you?"

He whirled around, staggering back as he saw his worst nightmare lurking in the corner. Wyatt Halliwell, looking less than pleased, in his quarters at Magic School. "Did you think I wouldn't know it was you?" Wyatt said as he advanced, "Did you think I wouldn't come for you?"

"I'm an Elder. You can't kill me." Gideon said with certainty. "You have Whitelighter blood, you can't wield a Darklighter's crossbow."

"Who ever said I'd need one?" Wyatt sneered, "I thought you were the one who said that 'I had too much power for this world'? How would you know even the slightest bit of what I'm capable of?"

Gideon tried to orb out but crashed back into corporeal form, gasping for breath, as Wyatt's fist clenched, choking the life out of him. "You may think you're an invincible Elder Gideon, but the Titans killed just enough of you to show how it could be done." Gideon could only croak in reply. Orbing them both out, Wyatt orbed them to where no one would think of looking for them; a desolate mountaintop.

Gideon fell to the ground, frightened for his life, and tried to orb out again but failed. Wyatt looked at him, bored, "I would think that you would have figured out that I can stop you from doing that by now. You're no match for me Gideon."

Gideon staggered to his feet, "It was enough for the Charmed Ones!" he shouted, now having nothing to lose.

That didn't help matters in the slightest. "I'm not Charmed," Wyatt said calmly, "I'm Twice-Blessed, the culmination of the Halliwell line. In the grand scheme of things, You. Are. Nothing. I hope you rot for all time in the fires of hell for what you did to my family!" Wyatt growled, a massive fireball forming in his hand.

The last thing Gideon ever felt was unparalleled fear before agonising pain swept over him and he fell to the eternal flames of castigation.

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Leo orbed in the minute he felt his mentor die and was shocked to the core when he saw his eldest son staring down in the dark recesses of the volcano he'd thrown Gideon's remains into. "Wyatt!" he shouted, "What have you done!"

"Performed a bit of long overdue bit of justice." Wyatt said coldly, "I thought I had made myself clear earlier that I didn't want to see you again?"

Leo's head kept snapping between Wyatt and the volcano, "You-you killed an Elder!"

"Head still in the clouds Leo?"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Leo all but shrieked.

Wyatt flung his father into the air, holding him there with his power, "Started a new world order. Now listen up and listen good, it's time for a change around here and I'm going to bring it. If any one of you come near me or my family again, I will kill them. So stay the hell out of my way unless you want to be blown into a million pieces. And don't forget to pass on the message Leo. I won't be repeating it if any Elders come calling."

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Vengeance didn't feel as good as he thought it would. Gideon had been the bane of his existence, an object of hate, for so long that finally getting rid of him only brought a sense of relief. No more would he dog his steps, with all his 'for the greater good' propaganda. He still remembered the day Chris was born, the day his own world fell apart and he realised that it was every man, woman, witch, demon and magical creature for themselves.

He still remembered…

He'd been scared, he remembered, demons had tried to kill him and his mommy was gone and so were his aunts he didn't know what to do. Then he'd heard his daddy's voice calling him, "Wyatt? Wyatt, can you hear me? It's daddy…" and had orbed to him.

But it hadn't been his daddy.

Five crystals had orbed around him and scared, he's put up his force-field. But it had only ended up trapping him. Terrified, wanting to cry, he looked around for his daddy but out of the shadows came daddy's friend, Gideon, the mean man who was always glaring at him.

"Hello, so sorry to have to lure you like this." he said in daddy's voice and Wyatt just knew something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Gideon hadn't been able to break down his force-field. Oh, he'd tried. But Wyatt eventually managed to escape the trap and orb back home to his real daddy.

He'd lost all faith in the whole good vs. evil idea that the rest of his family believed in. He knew better. Being amoral was so much better than squabbling over an antiquated belief. His family had never really noticed his persuasion but then again, he'd never wanted to harm them. He loved them and Gideon had stolen them from him, one by one. First, his father, promoted to Elder, 'persuaded' by Gideon to give up his family 'for the greater good'. Then he had to kill his mother, aunts and cousin. And he suspected that he was the reason behind his two uncles mysterious unsolved deaths as well.

The only ones left to him now were Chris and his grandfather. And his grandfather had always been closer to Chris, because as a baby Wyatt's force field had always gone up around him. No one, not even Wyatt himself, knew why, but due to it both sides had kept their distance.

It was time for a change, he'd said to his father. And so it was. The Elders had outlived their use by a few centuries and there was no Source. Everything was ripe for the taking.

By the time he was through with them, the world would know better than to cross Wyatt Halliwell.

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Wyatt entered the manor wearily. Prue heard the door and stuck her head down from the upstairs landing. "I called Darryl," she said quietly, as she came down. "He's in the sunroom. He's pretty shaken up but he can give you another hour to sort everything out before he has to call it in. I called dad too, he's upset but he's on his way. I would have gotten someone to magic him over but I'm dead and there's no one to orb him over so he's driving."

Wyatt gave her a small smile, "Thanks for everything aunt Prue," he said gratefully.

She smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder, "No thanks needed, kiddo. But I've only got another couple of hours left at most before I gotta go back."

He nodded, longish blond hair swaying, "I know. Has Chris woken up yet?"

Prue's eyes were suddenly looking past him, and she was fidgeting. "Aunt Prue?" he asked suspiciously, "What have you done?"

"Well, I thought it would be best not to chance a repeat of his…. outburst, earlier," she said guiltily, "So I kinda slipped him a potion?"

Tiredly, he rubbed a hand over his forehead, "How long?"

"Oh! It shouldn't last for very long," she assured him, "Besides a bit of healing will snap him right awake. No offence Wyatt, but with me dead and all, my powers came to a screeching halt over twenty years ago. I didn't want to have to deal with astral-projecting Chris's running around."

They both heard a familiar jingle resound through the room. And Prue's face creased in sadness, "They're calling me back. I've got to go." She embraced her nephew again, "You're going to be just fine. Take care of yourself and your little brother now, ok? Trust me, you don't want Piper coming back here just to kick your asses! Be careful, ok? Remember, I don't want to see any nephews coming to visit me until you're all old and wrinkly!"

"Goodbye, aunt Prue," he said as she disappeared in a swirl of golden lights.

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Wyatt entered Chris's bedroom with a heavy heart. His little brother was curled up on the bed, dark brown hair fanning over the pillow. It was hard to believe their family was down to them two now. The last generation of Halliwell witches.

"Take care of yourself and your little brother now, ok? " Prue had told him. And that was what he planned on doing. He'd been doing it since Chris was born, when his mother would call out for him to erect his force field around him and his little brother whenever a demon attacked, and he had no intention of stopping now.

Chris was strong, stronger by far than most witches, even the Charmed Ones he'd been born from, but he still wasn't as strong as Wyatt. Wyatt had some doubts he'd ever be, even Chris's tall, gangly build contrasted with Wyatt's taller, heavier frame. Chris wouldn't understand Wyatt's plans either. He would have to introduce him to that carefully to avoid scaring him off. Chris, like their mother, had a nasty temper once riled, and nothing did it faster than family.

Still, it was time to soothe his baby brother's grief, and his own, before something regrettable was done. Never let it be said that Halliwells weren't impressive in their fury. No one could throw a better tantrum.

Reaching out to tousle the dark hair, he placed his hand on Chris's forehead and watched the familiar golden glow surround his hand, seeping into Chris, who stirred with fading slumber. "Wyatt?" he mumbled sleepily before his eyes widened and he tried to bolt upright. Wyatt's hand on his chest sent him crashing right back down onto his back.

"Oh no you don't," he admonished, "I think San Francisco has had about all of Hurricane Chris that it can take."

Judging by the familiar light in his eyes, which was both their mother's and Chris's signal for 'kill pussycat, kill!', the storm wasn't over yet.

Letting go of the tight control he'd kept over his own emotions since the… incident, Wyatt wrapped an arm around Chris's shoulders and talked straight into his ear, ignoring Chris's angered squirming against the tight hold. "She's gone Chris, they're all gone." He took a deep breath, "I killed the one who did it. There's no need to rip the city apart to find his corpse. Mom wouldn't have wanted this. Remember after lil' Prue's dad died? Aunt Phoebe went ballistic, decided to go on a demon hunting spree?" At Chris's subdued nod, he continued. "Remember what mom said? That it wasn't worth it to kill yourself avenging the dead? That it was better to move on and remember them as they were, instead of as the reason why blood was on her hands? Justice has already been served. Now it's time to move on."

As tears welled up in his own eyes, he was vaguely aware of Chris's façade of composure breaking and clutching each other tightly, the brothers each gave in to their grief.

Oooo0000000

They stayed there for a while, until Wyatt orbed them over to Darryl's, taking him up on his offer of a room until the crime scene investigators had done their job.

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Victor Bennet arrived three days later, rushing home from his Bahaman cruise, face wan and eyes red and puffy but no one mentioned it to him. Chris was cheered up to see his grandpa, who swept him up into a hug, a hacking cough marring the moment. Victor had been diagnosed with a form of lung cancer a few years back, a result of too much cigars, and though it was in remission, he still was prone to chest infections and coughs as a result of weakened smoker's lungs.

"Wyatt," Victor acknowledged him with the usual nod.

"Victor," Wyatt greeted him just as casually. Their family had pretty much been forced to respect that they kept their space around each other. Victor had too many memories of Wyatt's birth, his own demon bride and consequent stab wound to be comfortable around his eldest grandchild. "You're just in time, the funeral's tomorrow."

Victor's eyes closed for a moment, "I know. So how are you two holding up?"

"Besides causing a freak hurricane, we're surviving," Chris said quietly.

One of Victor's eyebrows rose up, "Hurricane?"

Chris waved his arm in dismissal, "Long story."

Pretty much used to the fact that he would never understand anything about his children and grandchildren's magical lives, he let it go. Leaving his bags by the door, he eyed the two witches, "Did you get by the police ok?" he asked, not wanting his grandchildren to end up having to explain the unexplainable to the SFPD.

"Darryl took care of it," Chris said with no small touch of bitterness, "It looks like just another freak murder in the Halliwell family."

Wyatt eyed him for a moment, then casually asked, "Chris, would you orb Victor's bags to the guest room and get the kettle going? He looks like he could use a decent shot of caffeine."

Chris just shrugged, "Sure." he agreed, grabbing the bags and disappearing in a swirl of blue and white lights.

Wyatt shot his grandfather a significant look, and nodded his head towards the living room, "Would you talk with me a minute?" he requested.

Victor acquiesced, following him in to the room. "Are you going to tell me how you got around social services, young man?" he said, asking a question that had been on his mind. "I wasn't aware they let sixteen and fourteen year old kids run loose in this city."

"They don't," Wyatt replied, "That's part of what I wanted you here for. I have some pressing appointments Up There, what with the whole Excalibur thing and now that mom's not the Lady of the Lake anymore, it's not going to wait for long. I was wondering if you could take care of Chris while I'm doing that. Once I'm eighteen, we're covered but until then, social services are not people who are going to understand demon attacks on teenagers."

Victor digested that mouthful, and then nodded, "Of course I'll do it. But where the hell are you going to say you're going? I don't think saying That Big Place In the Sky is going to work."

"That's what's magic's for, Victor. Now listen, don't mention anything to Chris yet, ok? I'll tell him myself."

"Fine," Victor's expression changed, "This is going to mean dealing with demons, right?"

"Chris can vanquish most of them and I'll be only an orb away. Don't fret about it. I'll make sure the word's out that the Halliwells are off limits. Now we'd better get back to the kitchen before Chris sends out a search party."

He pretended not to hear Victor's mutter, "What about the lone Bennet?"

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The funeral was a miserable affair for the Halliwell boys. Plenty of their mom's, aunts' and cousin's friends were there, but there were really only Darryl and his family and Victor who actually knew the real story behind their deaths.

Not only had they to deal with the grief of their loved ones' burial but Chris and Wyatt had had to set wards around the graveyard to ward off any demons that would try and take advantage of the opportunity by attacking.

They decided to bury them next to Prue, deciding that it was only fitting that the four Charmed sisters be together in death as they had never been in life. Written over the mausoleum was the inscription, 'Charmed Forever, Blessed Be, May your souls rest in peace for eternity.' It was the closest they could come to their rightful title, the Charmed Ones, or in little Prue's case, the power from which she had been born, as they dared put in a public place.

More people would remember Piper as the owner of the successful club P3 and Phoebe would always be 'Ask Phoebe', California's hottest advice columnist, whilst Paige's death had struck a blow to Magic School who had just lost their deputy headmistress. But this inscription would help those who could understand that first and foremost, they were witches.

And after it was over, came another parting, nearly as bitter. Wyatt had to go. Wyatt had to be trained to wield Excalibur. He'd told Chris the night Victor came and Chris still hated it as much now as he did then.

Enfolding each other in a big hug while Victor turned his back to give them the illusion of privacy and to make sure no one saw the orb Wyatt was about to do. "You take care of yourself, you hear me?" Wyatt said, "Aunt Prue has threatened me with imminent death if either of us gets so much as a scratch."

Chris mustered a weak smile, "Yeah, you wouldn't want her haunting you. I remember mom telling us about the time she turned into a bitch, literally and that dad thought she'd have been a Doberman."

"Remember I'm just an orb away and so are you for that matter."

"You'd better visit often or I'm gong to come up and help you terrorise the Elders. God knows they need to get their heads in the clouds more often. They sound like they're either asleep or on drugs most of the time."

"That they do. I've gotta go now. See ya round Chris, take care." Wyatt said as he orbed out, leaving Chris and Victor to home to the grisly task of packing away Piper's things.

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Five months later, Wyatt was ready to make his own bid for power. Chris might believe he was up with the Elders but he had been spending his time researching arcane spells and rituals, all to help with his plans for the future.

First port of call was to whip some demons into shape, then he could start moving on to bigger things…

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Wyatt, due to his superior powers, quickly convinced the underworld that they would have two choices and two choices only. Serve him or die. Now, demons might be evil but they are not generally known for their steadfast loyalty to the cause. Knowing all too well that Wyatt had the power to annihilate them if he chose, they decided to follow him as their new Source.

The power he gained personally was inconsequential but by uniting the underworld once more, he now had the power and clout to push forward with his true goals: to expose magic to the wider world and restore magic wielders to their proper place at the top of the food chain instead of skulking in the shadows, to unite all magical creatures under him and to take down the Elders before they struck against him once more.

Taken completely by surprise, the world wasn't ready for Wyatt's coming. Killing the Tribunal and taking over the Cleaners, he held the power to erase memories and events from the mortals. And against him and his followers, those without magic never stood a chance, not even in their wildest dreams.

Wyatt took over the underworld and surely but slowly all of good magic as well. To the confusion of all, he was a Halliwell witch, the son of a Charmed One, the most powerful good witches to exist. His line was renowned for being the doom of any demons that faced them. And yet, he seemed to care neither for good nor evil, preferring to be neutral and amoral once he was in charge.

He was ruthless in his methods, killing any who opposed him. San Francisco fell first but with his swarm of demons, he's gained a good deal of control over everything and everywhere else as well within a very short space of time.

As to be expected, those without magic panicked, rapidly trying to bring back the witch trials and witches were openly attacked and were quickly forced to throw the 'harm none, do as you will' laws of Wicca out of the window as they were forced to defend themselves. The name Halliwell was feared and no matter how many stood against him, they couldn't win.

And so he came, he divided and he conquered, one place at a time.

The world had a new leader.

Who better than the man who as a baby had been foretold as the next King Arthur?

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When Chris had first heard of his brother's activities, he didn't believe a word of them. He was rapidly disabused of that notion. TV, radio, newspapers… not a one didn't have the shocking exposure of magic covered and the hysterical edge of rampant paranoia and fear.

It wasn't long before he learned that having the name Halliwell in San Francisco wasn't the best way to stay safe. Unable to do anything, not knowing what his brother was up to or what the Elders were planning on doing, he kept his silence and decided on a policy of non-interference until somebody explained what the hell was going on and why the world was going to hell.

Depending on who you encountered, Wyatt was either a revolutionary genius or a tyrannical dictator. And once magic was exposed, life became a whole lot more hazardous for anyone who had it, even if they had no powers and only followed Wicca as a hobby. The fearful fanatics weren't known for seeing the difference. Their creed was; burn the witch, search, kill and destroy all magic. Chris suddenly had a much deeper sympathy for his ancestor Melinda Warren, burned at the stake.

As governments collapsed, schools shut down, people holing themselves away. As he really didn't want to get burned at the stake, and his grandpa was freaking out, saying that his life was even worse now than when he had married a demon. All they could do was ward the manor, sit tight and wait for the world to stop shaking.

Maybe then they could find out what on earth was going on.

They hoped.

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San Francisco, 2021.

Hearing a knock on the door, and judging by the fact that they had gotten past the wards, Chris, now sixteen, answered the door, figuring it was probably Darryl, either coming with or looking for information.

Swinging it open, his jaw fell to the ground as he looked at the figure smirking at his discomposure.

"Hello, little brother, miss me?"

oooooooooo

A/N: So? What do you think? Should I continue? All feedback is welcome, though flames will be used to feed Wyatt's fireballs…

By the way little Prue's power was one Phoebe had in her past life with Antoine, the ability to throw fire.

Please review!!